


Life, Death, & Double Death

by Gunpuku_no_Bosco



Category: Original Work
Genre: Afterlife, Fantasy, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-01-31 19:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12688317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gunpuku_no_Bosco/pseuds/Gunpuku_no_Bosco
Summary: Rita Cranton walks the line between our world and the Afterlife. She works for Death as an usher for souls who need help crossing. But off the record, Rita assists Death with his secret projects.





	1. I Always Yearned for the Sweet Release of Death

At the far west corner of the East Valley Mall, a lone comic book shop stood amidst a sea of vacant storefronts. Century Comics, with its unique smell and light ska music playing over the intercom, had been a fixture of the mall for as long as Oscar Harkins could remember. And Oscar had been a fixture of Century Comics for just as long.

Oscar was an unkempt man, in his early twenties, and handsome relative to the rest of Century Comic's clientele. On this particular Wednesday he came to the shop wearing khaki shorts and a red t-shirt that read "Thank God it's Friday" above a picture of an anime girl. No one ever got the reference.

"Hey Jerry." He announced his presence while striding along his usual path from the door to the sale rack. "I saw your 'help wanted' sign in the window."

"Heh. Not from you, though." The manager replied with a chuckle. "Like Hell I'd ever give you an employee discount. We'd go belly up in a week."

Jerry was a tall, heavyset man, with a charming personality, who'd rather be doing anything else. He was a salesman for most of his life, right up until that profession died out. Several bad decisions and a few thousand dollars of bootleg anime merch later, he wound up at Century Comics.

"Oh well. Got anything new?"

"Ya mean since you was here yesterday? No."

"Hmm." Oscar replied as he flipped through the rows of 5₵  _Battle Monster_  singles. Sometimes Jerry left a rare card in the stack. Maybe by mistake, or maybe as a hidden gift for his more determined customers. Oscar never bothered to find out which.

He browsed the merchandise he'd seen a thousand times before while Jerry microwaved and finished off a  _Hangry Man_  meal. Jerry only spoke up again around closing time.

"Tell ya what. Ya know that robot figure you was lookin at the other day? The one from  _Radon Exodus Protestelion_? I was gonna move it to the sale bin tonight, but I'll give ya first crack at it. 10% off."

"Deal!"

Jerry rang up the figure. Oscar handed over a vast sum and received a few cents worth of unassembled plastic pieces in return.

"Ariga-thanks gozai-much!" Oscar bastardized as he ran out the door, eager to get home and put together his new  _Protestelion_  figure.

He left the harsh light of the mall to find the outside world cloaked in darkness. Hours ticked by without his notice while he was in the store. That was normal. But it was overcast autumn evenings, when night fell tragically early, that brought into focus just how easily his time slipped by.

The busses stopped running hours ago. Oscar didn't mind walking home. Between his programming job and gaming addiction, it was the only exercise he got.

He began the long trek back home, enjoying the unnatural silence. The streets were dark and empty, not unusual for East Valley, but they were especially so this night. No birds, or crickets, or wind. No streetlights, or headlights, or even a star poking around the ceiling of clouds. He kept to his path more from memory than from his senses.

Then the silence broke with a child's laugh. It should have been more jarring, but Oscar was stricken with an overwhelming sensation of normality. The child looked about 6, with red hair, in a pastel green dress. She was bouncing a bright red ball, oblivious to Oscar as he approached.

Oscar hated children, as a rule. They always wanted to talk but had nothing to say. But even worse than the too friendly children, were the crying ones that got scared by his resting-bitch-face. As the gap between them closed, he plastered a fake, neutral smile on his face and tried to avoid eye-contact. It would be easy on such a dark night, but a light had appeared at the worst possible time.

And it was getting brighter.

There were only a few feet between them and the girl had yet to look up. She was focused wholly on the ball. It bounced. Bounced. Bounced. Bounced out of her hands, and into the street.

The light kept growing brighter, now accompanied by the hum of an engine, as the girl chased after her ball. Still oblivious to Oscar. Oblivious to the world.

Oscar saw it play out in his mind. A scene he was intimately familiar with. A scene from countless anime. First the bland male protagonist drops his bag of nerd crap. Then he charges out into the street to push a child out of harm's way. And then he gets hit by a car. Finally, he wakes up with magic powers in some fantasy world.

He wasn't otaku enough to believe that's what awaited him. Oscar knew the only new world he'd wake up in was a hospital bed. He didn't want to sacrifice himself like that. Why should he care about some kid he didn't even know? He tried to convince his body to stay to the safety of the sidewalk.

But it wouldn't listen.

Carried by the wings of cliché, Oscar released his death grip on the Century Comics shopping bag. It fell to the sidewalk with a fated thud. He lunged into the street with all the force he could muster. His outstretched arms clasped at thin air.

The girl was nowhere to be found. The car was upon him. The light intensified until all turned to white.

* * *


	2. But I Never Expected Her to be this Cute

Oscar awoke to find nothing. The void was suffocating. A white expanse that seemed to go on forever. It felt both claustrophobic and dizzyingly open.

This wasn't the afterlife he expected. No pearly gates. No devils with pitchforks. No ancestors to welcome him to the halls of Valhalla. Nothing.

Until a soft voice whispered in his ear, "Welcome, we've been waiting for you."

Oscar spun around to find he was no longer alone. The most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on stood before him. She had hard features, as if she were chiseled out of amber citrine. Her shining blue eyes peeked out from under a blanket of floor-length red hair. She was cloaked in a brilliant robe, even whiter than the void around her.

"Who..." was all he could manage to say.

Her smile made his heart skip a beat. "I am Lorelaelenalia, High Enchantress of my people. And you," she extended her slender arms toward him, "are the champion from another world."

"Champion?" Oscar's head was spinning. He was supposed to be dead. He wanted to be dead, instead of whatever he was. Insane was the most likely option.

The Enchantress took his hand in hers. A sensation of falling overtook him as the void dissolved into a cityscape. They were in a small park with lush grass and marble monuments. A large dais of pure black stone lay at its center. The field was surrounded by skyscrapers that dwarfed anything on Earth.

"You must hurry," she pressed him onward, "there is little time."

"Time for what?" he tried to pull away.

She didn't answer, only grasped him tighter and dragged him on. They made their way to the dais. At its center was what appeared to be the hilt of an ornate sword embedded in the stone.

"That is the Blade of Gë. It is so prophesized, that a stranger from worlds unknown shall wield power to free the sword and save us from certain doom."

Oscar approached the sword in a daze.  _It's a dream. It has to be a dream. I'm in a hospital bed on Earth, dreaming the dumbest thing my brain could think of. WAKE UP!_

He reached out and grabbed the blade.

With a thunderous crack the stone dais shattered to dust under his feet. In the smoking crater, he held aloft 7 feet of shining red steel, a hand and a half sword that flashed with cold light and seemed to sing praise of its freedom.

Power. More real than any dream, power coursed through his veins. The Blade of Gë was his to command. There was no question in his mind, it was a natural fit, a title he was born to bear: Champion.

He looked back at the Enchantress to find he could see clear through her. She was like a ghost, no longer part of this world.

"I wish we had more time, Champion," she said through ethereal lips, "but I'm afraid the prophecy is quite urgent. My magic will keep me safe, so worry only for the fight ahead. Because Queen Xanxenitl will be arriving shortl—"

An explosion rocked the earth. One of the skyscrapers at the field's edge erupted into flames. From its falling ashes walked a monstrosity.

"Finally, I've found you, my champion." She hissed with the voice of a hulking songbird.

She glared at him with a dozen bulbous eyes set atop a viper's head. Her enormous, scaled frame skittered closer on four crab-like legs. She waved a clawed tentacle in the air menacingly and bared her countless, spiraling rows of teeth in a hungry grin.

An hour ago, Oscar would have turned tail and ran for the hills. He felt fear. He felt revulsion. He felt it in a distant sort of way. Oscar knew his emotions, but they had no power over him. The only power he felt, was from the Blade of Gë.

Oscar grabbed the sword with both hands and crouched the way he assumed a real swordsman would. His eyes met some of the Queen's in a harmoniously violent stare. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to attack.

"Đęğ Ňĳſ ƀŨŘŧ!" the Queen bellowed.

She lashed out with a bladed tentacle like a whip. The ground collapsed to a pit of rubble where Oscar had been.

 _The power of G_ _ë,_ he thought as he sailed through the air. He never had reflexes like that back on Earth. Heck, even Olympic gymnasts couldn't dodge at that speed.

He landed on the side of a towering marble obelisk. He spun his sword around to gain a reverse grip, just in time to block a second strike, with the blade along his forearm. She retracted her tentacle and Oscar spun the sword around again, gripping it with both hands.

He gathered all his strength for one desperate attack. Oscar kicked off the obelisk, leaving it a tower of crumbling debris. With the Blade of Gë raised high above his head, he aimed right for the Queen's terrifying head.

 _Yell something awesome!_ he told himself.

"Something awesome!" Oscar shouted as he began to slice downward to finish his arcing, aerial attack.

"Gahk." He shouted as the Queen's tentacle pierce through his chest. The sword fell from his hand, nowhere close to hitting the Queen. Oscar let out a final, frantic gasp, then went limp.

The Enchantress watched on in horror. She covered her mouth with ethereal hands as the shock of Oscar's quick defeat settled in.

The Queen shook his corpse from her limb, then turned to face the Enchantress. Her many eyes were filled with impatient disdain as she issued her warning. The one thing the Enchantress couldn't bear to hear.

"I'm not paying for that."

 


	3. Death, uh, Finds a Way

Death reclined in his office chair. There was no doubt about it; it was comfier than the last one. But still he couldn’t shake the feeling that true comfort evaded him. Well he could just put a secretary on the job and have a new chair in no time. That was probably one now.

“Come in,” he called to the knock on the door.

A beautiful woman sheepishly darted in and slammed the brass door behind her. She was tall, angular, and colorful. Two mercurial eyes stared at him from beneath a flowing cascade of rainbow locks.

“We have a problem, sir.”

“Uh…” Death scratched the back of his skull, growing increasingly painfully aware of the differences in their appearances. Aphrodite herself had once stood before him, but she couldn’t hold a candle to this mystery woman. Meanwhile his shirt was untucked and wrinkled, his tie was loose, and he couldn’t remember the last time he polished his bones. And his office was even worse, since only his employees were ever meant to come here, no ethereal beauty queens.

“Who,” he asked trying to make his hollow voice as polite as possible, “exactly are you?”

“Huh?” Lorelaelenalia glanced down at herself. “Oh, duh. I’m still in costume, it’s me, Rita.”

“Ohhhhhhhh. Of course, I guess I haven’t seen this character yet. That was a quick one, how did it go?”

Rita averted her gaze across Death’s wall of hour glasses and found one on a bottom shelf to the far side of the room to focus on. Her amber lips tightened around the bad news on her tongue.

“He was kind of a dud. Couldn’t last two seconds. Queen Ugly is out there demanding her money back.”

“Oh really?” Death’s eyes flared to life, two flaming orbs set in vacant sockets. By their light, twisted shadows danced about the room, swirling, swarming, swaddling Death in their darkness. They took shape into the uniform of the grim reaper. The scythe was in his hand to complete the look.

“Pay attention, Rita. I’m going to teach you how we do,” Death’s boney brow furrowed as he wrapped his free hand around the door knob, “customer service.”

It all happened it an instant, Rite could barely keep up. With a blinding flash of steel Death brought down his scythe as he stooped in a low bow before Queen Xanxenitl. 

“My sincerest apologies, Your Highness,” his voice echoed off the marble floor. “Humans are difficult to predict, but what occurred today was inexcusable. Let me assure you that this incident has prompted us to reevaluate our screening processes to ensure such a pitiful display never disgraces our good name again.”

Death rose to face the Queen and pulled a scrap of paper from nothing. “Please, if you can find it within yourself to gift us with a second chance, we would be delighted to procure another human for you, free of charge, of course. In the meantime, please take this voucher and treat yourself a meal in our premier restaurant, prepared by all the greatest chefs to ever die.”

She snatched the voucher away. “Very well, but this next one had better not disappoint.”

The Queen skittered out of the staff only area and back to the elevators. Rita was a little jealous, in her few weeks working under Death she wasn’t offered anything besides the cafeteria food. But her jealousy was second to her shock. She held in her questions until they were back in Death’s office.

“How can you let her talk to you that way?” she erupted.

“Like I said, Rita: customer service.” Death casually explained as his cloak evaporated and the shadows returned to their rightful places. The scythe was gone. “All the clients really want to hear is, ‘It’s our fault.’ Give them that and you’re golden.”

“But,” she stammered, “but you’re Death!”

“Mm. And they’re dead. No need to fear death twice, you know? I guess not. Maybe you’ll understand if I ever take your soul. Now, on to matters at hand.”

He sat down in his new chair. No, this one was less comfy than the last. Someone would have to be fired for this. The cup holder was nice, though.

“We already knew the Queen would be a tough customer. Shame we picked an idiot to go up against her, but them’s the breaks. Let’s find a replacement.”

Death flipped open the enormous tome on his desk. The fate of every living being was inscribed within. His boney fingertip traced along tiny letters until he found the list of Humans on Earth currently eligible to die.

“Is there anywhere you’d like to visit?” he asked.

Rita thought for a moment. “Is anyone from my highschool on the list?”

Death scanned over the myriad names. In the H’s he paused to stretch his back. This chair was doing awful things to it. He continued the silent search.

“Ah, as a matter of fact… No, he won’t do. I’ll just put Fatty on the fast track for a heart attack. Looks like you’ll be after another stranger today.”

“Ah,” Rita sighed softly, “I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. Just gimmie someone random then.”


End file.
